Sleep
by Whirling
Summary: Jim decides that the best thing would be to just sleep. It's better than feeling the cold, anyways. (T for swearing; friendship fic)
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Star Trek fic, and first fic in just about forever, so please just... try not to judge me too harshly. I know a ton of people have done things like this, and before you read, I'm just going to tell you that there are no promises as to this being original. This is just me indulging in the hurt!Jim fic that I've been wanting to write for a while...**

**Enjoy?**

**edit: soo I didn't expect anyone at all to like this, and I did not come prepared, so I have edited the first chapter to make it more detailed and stuff. I must admit that I was mildly pleased that a few people were interested. Thanks guys!**

* * *

So, here he was.

In the middle of a friggin _ice planet_, of all things. He'd had a bit of a fall-out with his love of snow and ice after Delta Vega. Yeah, you might say he wasn't particularly happy about the situation. He might've been a bit happier had he been wearing something more substantial than his standard yellow command shirt.

"Frickin useless crew, stranding me on a godforsaken _frozen_ _rock_…," Captain James T. Kirk muttered under his icy breath, hugging his useless Starfleet standard top against him. He didn't have anything to shield himself from the weather - and when he said not anything, he meant _nothing_. No jacket, no blanket, not even a fucking phaser he might be able to use to heat up a rock or something. All he could really do was hope that his faithful crew would remain faithful and find him quickly.

To be perfectly honest, he had no idea how he had ended up here, of all places. Not ten minutes ago, he had been on the bridge, surrounded by alpha crew. He'd literally been in his chair for twenty minutes before he had felt the familiar feeling of his body being transported somewhere. He'd had just enough time to lock eyes with Commander Spock before he had materialized _here_. In the pure, everlasting white of an ice planet. The Captain had no idea how far away the _Enterprise_ even was, if it was minutes away or days, and worst of all he didn't know if his crew could get to him before he succumbed to the cold. He assumed that one of his or Starfleet's enemies had beamed him here, but how could he know? His comm wasn't working, obviously, and no angry aliens had confronted him yet (but that wasn't to say it wasn't a possibility, because it definitely was, with his record).

Jim sighed, shivering violently. He needed to stop thinking about how he'd gotten here and how he'd get away and start focusing on how to _survive_ for the time being. That was what he was best at, right? Surviving… He'd get through this. He always did.

He pulled from his mind everything he knew about surviving in the snow. _Keep moving, don't get wet, dig a cave in the snow, keep yourself warm, keep warm, keep warm, warmwarmwarmwar-_ okay, okay. So he'd try to dig a little cave and keep himself warm that way, maybe? At least moving around that much would keep his blood flowing.

Except that - he didn't have gloves, and he sure as hell wasn't digging with his bare hands (which were, at the moment, stuffed in his armpits). Thinking fast like the genious he was, he took off his shoes, ripped off his socks, and then stuffed his feet back in the boots before his toes could freeze off. Then he wrapped the socks around his hands and began chopping at the snow.

After a few fruitless attempts in various different areas, he leaned back, huffing. "Damn it," he snarled. "Fucking ice; fucking planet." The ice was too hard to dig into and his arms were starting to fight him. It was too damn cold here. Jim sighed, peering around once again at the landscape, hoping for a snowdrift or a wall or something that might have a cave or that might be soft enough to make one - but his eyelids were getting heavy with all the frost that was sticking to his lashes, and _maybe I'd better close them,_ he thought,_ so my eyeballs don't freeze, because that might be a problem._ He was shaking, trembling with the cold, but those too had slowly gotten weaker as his body began to give up.

But no, he couldn't give up. He was James Fucking Kirk! He'd never let anything as wimpy as _snow_ get to him before, and he wasn't about to now. He growled at himself internally and kept himself moving, shuffling his feet, rubbing his hands against his arms, doing the occasional hop. _Come on, man, you can handle this. It won't be long until your crew gets here. They'll get you out of this mess._

And he believed it, because his crew had never let him down.

* * *

After a while, (well actually, how long _had_ it been? He wasn't quite sure anymore. Time had started blending together) he stopped feeling the cold.

He knew this wasn't good, but he didn't care. It just felt so nice not to feel the jaws of freezing ice clamping down on him anymore.

He started to relax. He was pretty tired. Maybe he should lie down. He thought he might fall asleep on his feet, and that probably wouldn't be too comfortable. Maybe he should just sleep. Lie down and go to sleep. That might be best, he decided. Yes, he would sleep. He was very tired, after all.

_That's it, Captain Kirk. Sleep._

He slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay! So, I didn't really expect anyone to read this, so when people did I decided to go back and edit the first chapter a bit. If you read it yesterday, go back and read it again! :) Nothing too big changed, but it's much better writing now, haha.**

**This chapter got out pretty quickly; don't get used to that. I'll probably take a lot longer from now on ~ sorry!**

**Without further ado... chapter two! (heheh)**

* * *

A voice out of darkness.

"_Sir?_

"_Uh, sir._

"_He's asleep, sir."_

A faint smile crossed a bitter face. It did not fit this face, but there it was nonetheless.

"_Good work, soldier. _

"_Now, get to work."_

* * *

Chaos, that was what it was.

Complete and utter chaos.

Jim had just - _disappeared_ from the bridge. That was what Spock had told him. _"Goddamit man, captains don't just get randomly beamed off of their ships! This is a Starfleet ship, and a spanking good one - how the hell did the transporter beam get past our shields?!" _His response hadn't been too polite, sure, but he was this ship's chief medical officer and Jim was his first priority (as well as being his best friend. Maybe his only friend? He'd… dwell on that later). Damn it if McCoy wasn't worried about the kid, but not knowing where he was or what was happening to him just made it worse. He hated being clueless about his friend's location.

Leonard sighed. There wasn't any good he could do just sitting here moping about, worrying. His shift was over, but there was no way he could sleep now. He picked up his PADD, added another shift to his schedule, and headed back to medbay.

For a while, McCoy lost himself in his work. At first there were no injuries that needed his attention, so he began taking inventory of all the medical supplies: hypos, pills, bandages; noting things that needed to be picked up at the next Starfleet outpost. About an hour into his shift, an engineer came in with a broken wrist. He'd fallen and landed on his arm, apparently. The doctor sighed at the man, but had it fixed in no time at all with a few stabilizers and a hypo. _"Try not to use it for a few days," _he said, before dismissing him.

Then he stopped. Thought for a moment. Everything that he'd done since he'd gotten the news of Jim's disappearance had been instinct, habit. He couldn't concentrate with Kirk missing. McCoy was slightly angry for letting himself get so distracted. He needed to be able to work in a crisis, (and yes, a missing captain was definitely a crisis) and this was definitely not working. The man pinched the bridge of his nose, but tried to stop thinking about Jim and get back to work.

It wasn't really that much of an effective technique, blocking reality - but he supposed it would work for the time being.

* * *

The very moment that the Captain's form had disappeared completely from the _Enterprise_, Commander Spock was already calculating where he could have gone, mentally checking off old enemies of both Kirk's and Starfleet's, crossing off places that had a .01% or less possibility that the Captain could have possibly been relocated to.

He began barking orders to the alpha crew. "Ensign Chekov, attempt to trace the signal to its destination. Lieutenant Sulu, inspect our shields and figure out how the transporter beam got past them. Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet and let them know what has happened. See if they have any ideas as to how and why this had occurred." He paused and activated his comm, without checking to see if the crew had obeyed him. He knew they would. "Bridge to Engineering."

"_Scotty here. What can I do for you, Commander?"_

"Captain Kirk has just been beamed off of the bridge by an unknown source. Please have the ship ready to go to warp as soon as we can trace the signal." The Vulcan ended the transmission without waiting for a reply. His emotions were on edge, as they always seemed to be while the Captain was in danger. He found this illogical and just a bit annoying, but he worked around it, and ignored them the best he could.

His next action was to alert the CMO of the _Enterprise_. He was not looking forward to the man's reaction, but it had to be done. Doctor McCoy needed to be ready, should Kirk come back to the _Enterprise_ with any injuries. "Bridge to medical," he spoke into his comm.

"_Doctor McCoy here. What's Jim done this time?" _

Spoke found it amusing that the doctor immediately assumed that the Captain had done something. Of course, it wasn't that surprising, considering that about 94.2394% of the time the First Officer contacted medbay from the bridge, it was to report something about Captain Kirk. "The Captain has been beamed off of the ship to an unknown location. Please be prepared to receive him in medbay, as per usual."

"_Goddamit man, captains don't just get randomly beamed off of their ships! This is a Starfleet ship, and a spanking good one - how the hell did the transporter beam get past our shields?!"_

"We are not certain as of yet. The bridge crew is working on it, however, and I will inform you once we have located the Captain." Spock quickly ended the conversation, wanting to avoid any further confrontation with the doctor.

He turned back to the bridge, moving forward to stand next to the empty captain's chair. Though he was Acting Captain, and would be allowed to sit in the chair, he did not feel comfortable in it, not when Kirk was the Captain of the _Enterprise_. He decided that he would not be a suitable captain, and that he much preferred the position of First Officer.

"Starfleet has been notified, sir." Uhura's voice distracted him. "Their orders are to find him as quickly as possible, and not to tell anyone outside of Starfleet that he's missing."

This was as he predicted, of course. Starfleet would not want their poster boy of a captain to go missing for too long, nor would they have any desire to alarm the public. Everyone loved James Kirk, the youngest Starfleet captain in history; it would not be good for Starfleet's popularity if he were to be missing in action for too long.

"Thank you, Lieutenant-"

"Sir! I have traced the signal, Commander. It seems to have stopped on a planet called… Chion III; it is approximately seven hours away at maximum warp."

Spock nodded quickly. "Sulu, set course to Chion III." He pressed his comm- "Lieutenant Scott, are we prepared to go to warp?"

"_Yes, sir."_

Spock nodded to Sulu, who had turned to face the Commander. Sulu's face hardened; he turned around immediately and then they were speeding through space.

_Seven hours_, Spock thought. _Too long._


End file.
